


I've Got You

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Adara Birthday Celebration [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Derek Hale Comforts Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, M/M, Nightmares, Trust, Worried Derek Hale, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: He fell asleep around two in the morning, and only woke up when he heard a sharp inhale that was undoubtedly going to lead to a shout of terror. His eyes snapped open and he shifted over until he was almost on top of Stiles, holding him tightly and burying his face in his neck, inhaling deeply.He reeked of fear.“Stiles, you’re okay,” he promised, one hand in his hair and gripping tightly, the other against the bed so he wasn’t putting his full weight down on him. “You’re okay, Stiles, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”





	I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adara/gifts).



> Happy Birthday [Adara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adara/pseuds/adara)!!!
> 
> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

Derek would never forget the first time it happened. It was just one of those things that stuck with him, because like so many other awful things in his life, he had no idea what to do.

He and Stiles had been together that night, doing research on the problem on the week. Their little town was being invaded by Ghouls, which “Are _not_  the same thing as _Zombies_ , Derek!” And so, they were stuck doing research. Technically Stiles was the research guy but Derek liked to be a good person and help out every now and then.

So when Stiles was starting to burn out, Derek had gone to grab him from his place, along with all his notes and books, and he’d forced him to take a brain break. They’d gone to one of the 24-hour diners and gotten some food and coffee, then they’d gone to a convenience store and bought some snacks and a few energy drinks.

They’d returned to Derek’s place, since it was easier to fight the forces of evil without snoopy neighbours and a parental figure ordering bed time. So, that was where they were.

At Derek’s.

Sometime around four in the morning, both of them began to lose their focus. They were exhausted, and by then, they were doing more harm than good since they might miss something pivotal.

Derek didn’t trust himself to drive Stiles home this tired, and he certainly didn’t trust _Stiles_  to drive himself home this tired, so he told him he could crash with him.

Wasn’t like it was a big deal to either of them. After literally holding each other together, through blood and sweat and tears, sleeping in the same bed was nothing. It barely even registered on Derek’s radar as something people didn’t normally do.

But he was a wolf, and Stiles was his friend, so neither of them cared. They just trudged upstairs, Derek lent him a pair of sweats for the night, and they climbed into bed together. Stiles moved around a lot when he was trying to fall asleep, mattress shifting beneath his body, but Derek was so exhausted he barely registered the movement. Stiles kept muttering and punching at the pillow, but eventually he settled and whatever had been bothering him obviously lost to exhaustion.

Within minutes of putting his head down, Derek was fully unconscious. He didn’t know how long the unconsciousness lasted but he certainly remembered waking up.

A terrified scream echoed through the small room and Derek was wolfed out before he’d even opened his eyes, one clawed hand grabbing at the front of Stiles’ shirt and tearing the fabric in his haste to wrench him behind him, wanting to protect him from whatever was attacking them.

His sleep-filled eyes scanned the area urgently, brain alert to any dangers, but even as he looked around the room, the screaming continued and Derek saw nothing.

There was nothing there.

He twisted quickly to glance at Stiles, wondering if maybe he could see something Derek couldn’t, and he realized, quite startled, that Stiles still looked like he wasn’t entirely awake.

His eyes were open, but it didn’t look like he could see anything, and he was still screaming, one hand having come up to grab at Derek’s wrist in a way that he was both trying to pull it away and hold on to it tightly.

It took a second for Derek’s brain to clue in to what was happening, mostly because it had been years since he’d had one himself. But the almost worrying speed of Stiles’ heartbeat in his chest, the sweat-slicked skin, and the harsh breathing between screams helped snap him out of his shocked state.

Stiles was having a nightmare.

“Stiles,” Derek said loudly, shifting in the bed and releasing his shirt. It took some work getting his hand free, since Stiles was still gripping his wrist, but he managed and grabbed at Stiles’ shoulders. “Stiles, it’s okay! Stiles!”

He’d never really experienced someone else having a nightmare before. Cora used to when they were younger, but Laura or one of his parents always went to calm her down. Derek couldn’t think of anyone else in his life having a nightmare like this.

Stiles was trying to pull away from him, cheeks damp and reeking of fear. He really didn’t seem to realize he was awake and he was okay.

And now he was starting to try and shove Derek off him. He was trying to get away from him, one fist pounding against Derek’s chest while shifting in bed like he was about to kick at him to get him to back off.

Derek didn’t know what to do. He had no idea what to do right now. Stiles was panicking so bad Derek was actually worried he was going to hurt himself.

Being a Werewolf made it exceptionally easy for Derek to manhandle Stiles how he wanted him. He was sure he was likely making things worse in that moment, but he needed a better grip on Stiles so he didn’t risk losing his hold on him. He didn’t want him to race out of the room and end up falling down the stairs.

Derek forced Stiles into a position where he wasn’t entirely sitting up, so that he couldn’t support his own upper body weight without his arms. Then he moved around until he was behind him and effectively limited the use of his arms, grabbing both of his wrists with either hand and crossing them over Stiles’ front, almost bear-hugging him from behind.

“Stiles, it’s okay,” Derek insisted as calmly as he could, lips pressed against his temple, the smell of sweat and fear overwhelming. “Stiles, I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is okay. Just breathe. It’s okay, just breathe.”

He kept repeating the words over and over, holding Stiles tightly and keeping track of his various body signals. His breathing was the first thing to slow, coming less sharply and beginning to resemble a calmer and more controlled pace. After he got his breathing under control, his heart slowly began to return to a normal speed and the terror that had been rolling off him in waves lessened. It slowly shifted into something closer to embarrassment or shame, which had Derek frowning because there was nothing embarrassing or shameful about having a nightmare.

With the lives they all led, Derek honestly wondered how most of them didn’t go to therapy. He’d been born into this life, most of the others had been thrust into it. Considering all the shit they’d gone through, it was astounding none of them had ended up in a mental institute by now.

Well, for legitimate reasons. Stiles and Lydia didn’t count.

It took an additional few minutes for Stiles to fully calm down, and while his breathing and heart rate returned to some semblance of normal, his muscles remained tense and the humiliation coming off him was heartbreaking.

“You can let go of me now,” he said quietly, shifting slightly, as if to help emphasize his point.

Derek didn’t comply. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, let go.”

He didn’t want to let go yet. He wanted to wait and be sure Stiles was okay, but the anxiety he could sense beginning to creep into Stiles’ scent made him think it would be best to just do as he asked.

Derek released his wrists and slowly pulled back, Stiles shifting quickly to the edge of the bed and getting to his feet, back to Derek and hurrying to find his things.

“I’m going home.”

“Stiles—”

“Thanks for helping me earlier, with the research. I’ll finish up on my own.”

Derek climbed off the bed just as Stiles had grabbed his jeans. He wrapped his hand around his arm and pulled him back, forcing him to turn and face him. Stiles kept his gaze focussed on something at about chest-height on Derek’s right, but he didn’t try and pull free.

“Stiles, why are you embarrassed?” he demanded. “So you had a nightmare. So what? To be honest, I’m surprised you don’t have them more often.”

While Stiles had never slept over before, Derek had _seen_  him sleep a few times. Either showing up in the middle of the night to wake him for help, or stopping by after a big monster fight to check in and make sure he was okay. He’d seen Stiles passed out with his mouth open while they’d gone on a road trip to find some magical, mystical flower they needed to break a curse that had been cast on Malia.

He’d seen Stiles sleep before. He just hadn’t ever spent a whole night with him.

“I’m just gonna go.”

He tried to pull away, but Derek didn’t release him. They both knew that Stiles could attempt to free himself all he wanted, but as long as they were standing in this spot, Stiles had nothing to hurt him with. Derek wouldn’t let him go, and there wasn’t a damn thing Stiles could do about it.

“I’m not letting you leave,” Derek informed him. “You’re not in any state to drive yourself home, and I’m not willing to let you risk it just because you’re embarrassed. Stiles, it _happens_. Nightmares happen to everyone. Why are you acting like I’ve never had one myself?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Stiles snapped, still focussed on something past Derek.

“Then we won’t. Let’s just go back to bed.”

Stiles didn’t seem at all happy with that, and they stood in the middle of Derek’s room for a long while, Stiles still holding his jeans. Eventually, Derek reached out with his free hand and pulled them out of Stiles’ grip. He actually let him, which Derek hadn’t expected, and he dropped them back on the floor where they’d originally been.

Stiles obediently moved back to the bed with Derek, looking annoyed and ashamed, but he climbed back onto it and Derek finally let him go. They settled under the covers once more and Stiles turned his back on Derek, curling up slightly so he was in a little ball.

Derek was on his back, but kept his head turned towards Stiles, listening to his heart as it slowly began to beat faster. He was probably thinking about his nightmare, and worrying about falling asleep again. Since the Nogitsune, Derek knew that Stiles had issues with sleep, but that had been so many years ago, he’d thought he was better.

He supposed no one _really_ ‘got better’ from something like that.

Derek stayed awake staring at Stiles’ back until he could tell he’d fallen back asleep. Closing his eyes, Derek tried to get back to unconsciousness and he’d _almost_  made it when a sharp inhale from beside him had his eyes snap open again.

He stared at Stiles’ back, listening to the various sounds of his body and when the air around him turned sour with fear, he realized another nightmare was forthcoming.

Without really thinking about it, Derek rolled over and moved right up behind Stiles, wrapping one arm around him and pulling him back against his chest.

“You’re safe,” he said quietly, face pressed to the back of his neck. “Stiles, you’re okay. Everything is okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He honestly hadn’t expected it to work, but as he whispered more soft words of reassurance, the quickening pace of Stiles’ heart began to slow and he relaxed, his dream evidently taking a less nightmarish turn.

Derek felt kind of useless for the most part, but if nothing else, at least he’d helped in this one instance. Closing his eyes, he held Stiles tightly against himself and tried to go back to sleep.

When they woke up in the morning with Derek still pressed against him, and Stiles having turned in his sleep with one hand pressed flat against Derek’s heart, neither of them said anything. They just climbed out of bed, dressed, and went back to work to rid their town of their Ghoul problem.

* * *

The second time it happened, they weren’t at either Stiles’ _or_  Derek’s.

Derek had been captured by a group of Hunters who’d been hearing rumours about the Beacon Hills pack and had assumed he was the Alpha. Upon realizing he _wasn’t_  the Alpha, they’d proceeded to try and torture the name of the pack leader out of him.

It was a sad, sad day for Derek when he realized he was so used to torture that it barely even affected him anymore. They weren’t nearly as bad as the Argents, and at least no one was sexually harassing him while trying to get him to talk.

Eventually, they tossed him in a room to be dealt with later, smart enough for the walls to be stone and the door to be made of mountain ash, so he had no means of escaping. He just sat leaning back against a wall while his various injuries healed. Some slower than others, given the Wolfsbane, but still faster than a human’s.

And even while he thought about humans, the door opened and someone was _literally_  thrown into the room with a shout, landing hard on his side and groaning while rolling onto his back. Derek was not at all surprised to see Stiles.

Stiles didn’t seem surprised to see him, either.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, voice tinted with pain. “New friends?”

“Best friends,” Derek informed him. “We’ve already gotten to the torture stage.”

“Lovely, can’t wait to get to know them as well as you do.”

Of course, having Stiles there made the anxiety levels in Derek go up. Because Stiles was extremely human, and also best friends with Scott.

And Derek’s loyalty lay with Stiles, _not_  Scott. The only reason he hadn’t said anything was because he knew how upset Stiles would be if anything happened to his best friend. But now, with him here, if the Hunters came in and started torturing him in front of Derek, even if Stiles begged him not to speak, Derek was going to have to tell them the truth. Because this was Stiles, and he was quite possibly the only person left in his life that Derek gave two shits about.

Sure, he cared about Scott, in a detached sort of way. He didn’t want to see him hurt, wanted him to live a long, happy life, but he also acknowledged that if he died, Derek wouldn’t be too broken up about it. He wouldn’t necessarily be _happy_ , but he definitely wouldn’t be _upset_.

Stiles, though? Derek would raze the earth and destroy anyone or anything who hurt him. So having him here was a problem, and Derek couldn’t help but wonder if the Hunters somehow _knew_  that Stiles was his weakness.

Stiles was quite literally Derek’s Kryptonite.

Thankfully—well, kind of?—when they came for Stiles, they didn’t take Derek with him. He would’ve put up a fight, tried to stop them, protected Stiles, but they’d locked gazes when the Hunters came and they both knew that would be a bad idea.

They wouldn’t kill Stiles. He was human, and while he ran with wolves, the Hunters didn’t kill humans. They would hurt him, try and get an answer out of him, but he would live through it. So Derek just watched them drag him away, Stiles giving him the smallest of nods in thanks for doing nothing, and shut the door.

His Werewolf hearing was the problem, because he could clearly hear everything, and he ended up closing his eyes and trying to imagine it was all just a movie. Listening to Stiles’ heart rate spike, hearing him crying out, it was nothing he wanted to listen to. But they obviously weren’t doing much to hurt him since he was speaking through the majority of his time out of the room.

Stiles being Stiles, not that Derek was surprised. He mouthed off at everyone, Hunters were no different. He’d mouthed off at Hunters before, including Argents.

They didn’t keep him out there for long, less than an hour. Derek would’ve been jealous, except it was Stiles, and he was relieved to have him dragged back into the room after only about forty minutes. He was dumped unceremoniously on the ground with a grunt of pain, rolling onto his back and waving one hand at the exiting Hunters.

“Thanks for the good time, fellas. See you again soon!”

The door slammed and Derek moved forward instantly, crouching in front of Stiles and inspecting every inch of his face.

He had some bruises and a few cuts, blood flowing from them, but he didn’t look too bad. They hadn’t used any knives on him, so that was good, and it looked like he still had all of his fingers.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to leech some of his pain. It hurt, but not overwhelmingly, so he pulled as much of it as he could.

“Your new friends are kind of dicks,” he informed him, closing his eyes and letting out a small breath of relief. “The others’ll come, don’t worry. We’ll have our white knight here in no time.”

“If they can find us.”

“I found you. And I left clues. They’re not _helpless_  without me, but only just.” He peeked open one eye to smile and Derek rolled his own.

“Get some rest,” Derek said, tilting his head and listening. “They’re thinking of heading out again, so we have time to recover.”

“Sounds good.”

Stiles was asleep less than five minutes later. Derek knew it was mostly as an escape from the pain, and not because he was actually tired. Torture was quite exhausting, even he knew that.

He pulled Stiles cautiously towards the wall, trying not to jostle him and wake him up. Derek leaned back against it once more, Stiles’ head on his lap, and pressed one hand against the human’s chest, keeping track of his heartbeat with both his hand and his ears.

Derek kept his eyes on the door, despite knowing the Hunters had gone. It made him feel better to be alert, not wanting someone to barge in while Stiles was asleep. He also figured they shouldn’t look this chummy if someone walked in.

He didn’t know what the Hunters assumed about their relationship, but he was sure their implied lack of care earlier when Derek hadn’t stopped them from taking Stiles suggested that they thought they weren’t close. Derek wanted to keep it that way as much as possible, it would save both him _and_  Stiles from being used against each other.

Derek was still watching the door, trying to determine how to get out of this situation if Scott and the others didn’t arrive soon, when his eyes slowly lowered to look at Stiles. His heart was beginning to increase in speed and his hands on his stomach were clenching into fists.

Without thinking on it too much, Derek reached up with his free hand, carding his fingers gently through Stiles’ hair and shushing him. It made Stiles’ heart stutter, but not slow, so he returned to the same mantra he had weeks ago when Stiles had been over and assured him that he was all right. He was safe.

Technically, he _wasn’t_  in this case, but Derek wasn’t going to let anything truly bad happen to him. They would get out of this eventually, they always did.

An hour later, Stiles was still asleep, Derek having managed to keep the nightmare at bay, when the Hunters finally returned. He’d been ready to wake Stiles up so they wouldn’t appear so friendly, but he paused because the Hunters had arrived with a new party, whose voice he recognized.

He listened to them all speak, head tilted, and then one set of footsteps headed down the stairs. Derek just stared at the door, waiting for it to open, and once it did, Chris Argent walked in. His eyes skirted around the entire room quickly, face neutral while he took in Stiles’ unconscious form and Derek’s fingers still running through his hair.

“You really have the worst luck with Hunters,” Chris informed him, checking his watch and shutting the door behind himself.

“Don’t you think you’re going to give everything away by coming in here so casually?” Derek asked.

“I’m in here for my own protection, at this point.” Chris unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and Derek saw he had a wire taped to his chest.

“Sheriff?”

“Should be here momentarily.”

The two of them didn’t have to wait long. The sheriff’s department showed up within two minutes, just as the Hunters upstairs were beginning to wonder what was taking Argent so long in getting the wolf out of its cage.

The good thing about this entire scenario was that the Hunters had kidnapped two people, and thus nothing about the Supernatural had to be hidden when they were arrested. The other cops didn’t care why they’d kidnapped Derek and Stiles, they just cared that they _had_. Anything incriminating about Werewolves would be tossed out as insanity.

The sheriff was the first officer through the door and Stiles startled awake when his name was shouted. Derek stood with Chris’ help once Stiles and his father were hugging tightly, and they exited the small room. Derek wasn’t looking forward to giving anyone his statement, especially since he wasn’t injured at all and Stiles was a mess, but thankfully he was handed over to Parrish, which made things infinitely easier.

Derek watched Stiles get ushered into his dad’s cruiser while he spoke to Parrish, and he really hoped he was going to be okay.

* * *

The third time it happened, Stiles was unconscious. They’d been fighting off a Golem and he’d been thrown into a tree. Everyone had panicked because the crack they’d heard was _not_  comforting, and Scott had almost gotten the rest of them killed when he broke formation to rush to his friend’s side.

Not that Derek was mad about that, just annoyed because he’d been _closer_  and had already been at Stiles’ side when Scott decided to try and get the rest of them killed.

They hadn’t known how to proceed, because they didn’t have a reasonable explanation for how he’d been thrown into a tree, so they’d brought him to Derek’s and called Melissa. Having a nurse on their team made things _extremely_  convenient, but Derek often wished she’d get married to one of the doctors in the hospital so they could bring a doctor into the fold.

At least they were going to be okay on the police side when the sheriff retired, considering they had Parrish, but they really needed another medical professional. Especially given Lydia and Stiles were both fragile.

She couldn’t tell them much without Stiles conscious or an X-ray machine, but she seemed fairly confident he at least hadn’t broken his neck or back. That was the most important thing, to be honest. Still, she told them not to move him, and to call once he woke up.

Scott waited until past midnight, but Stiles was still unconscious so he went to sleep on the couch while Derek stayed up in the bedroom. It was hard, not knowing that he was okay, but if anyone could get through being thrown into a tree, it was Stiles. He’d faced worse.

Derek ended up passing out beside him on the bed, idly thinking it was a little interesting this was happening so often lately. Not that he minded, he knew he and Stiles had a somewhat unconventional relationship.

More than friends, not quite lovers. They were just comfortable. Derek was comfortable with Stiles, and Stiles was comfortable with him. They cared about each other, and if one of them ever decided they wanted to give this a shot, Derek knew the other would agree. They just hadn’t gotten around to that part yet.

He fell asleep around two in the morning, and only woke up when he heard a sharp inhale that was undoubtedly going to lead to a shout of terror. His eyes snapped open and he shifted over until he was almost on top of Stiles, holding him tightly and burying his face in his neck, inhaling deeply.

He reeked of fear.

“Stiles, you’re okay,” he promised, one hand in his hair and gripping tightly, the other against the bed so he wasn’t putting his full weight down on him. “You’re okay, Stiles, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He honestly thought he was too late, but Stiles’ scream didn’t come, and while he was still breathing hard, he was slowly beginning to calm down, Derek pressed against him and whispering words of reassurance.

Stiles calmed completely and settled within a few minutes, and Derek just stayed where he was, half on top of him, until he himself fell asleep once more.

It was Stiles who woke up first, and he poked at Derek, muttering that he was crushing him. Derek obediently rolled off him, sleepily told him not to move, and called Melissa.

Neither of them talked about Derek’s crushing weight having kept the nightmare at bay.

* * *

It turned into a bit of a routine for Stiles and Derek. Whenever Stiles was asleep around him, Derek would always wake up as the nightmare began to take hold and calm him down. Eventually, he just started falling asleep with his arms wrapped around Stiles, keeping the nightmares at bay before they even had a chance to form.

Stiles never said anything about it, and Derek didn’t bring it up. It was just something they did that they didn’t talk about.

Though Derek noticed Stiles was coming by more often to hang out. He didn’t comment on it, but Stiles ended up staying over more often than not, whether it was during times of research or not. Derek suspected it had something to do with the fact that he slept well when they were together, but he didn’t want to assume, so he didn’t say anything.

After almost two weeks of this, Derek was getting ready for bed one night when Stiles still hadn’t shown up. He figured maybe he’d already passed out at home and didn’t dwell on it, but it was weird sleeping in his bed alone. He hadn’t realized how much he liked having Stiles around. It only further reinforced his belief that they would be compatible if they ever decided to start dating.

Stiles in his bed was nice, and even having his scent on the pillow beside his was calming him enough to drift off into sleep. He was just about there when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He contemplated ignoring it, but didn’t want to wake up in the morning to find the whole pack dead because they’d needed him and he’d ignored them.

Rolling over with an annoyed sigh, wondering how he’d decided helping out was a good idea, he pulled his phone closer and saw it was a text from Stiles.

**[Stiles]**  
u up?

**[Derek]**  
Yes.  
 **[Derek]**  
What is it?

Stiles took a long while to reply, but when he did, Derek frowned and climbed out of bed immediately.

**[Stiles]**  
sry. can u come over?

**[Derek]**  
I’ll be there in ten.

He was dressed and out the door in two minutes, hurrying down to the Camaro. He made it to the sheriff’s house within seven and was knocking on the front door exactly ten minutes later.

Stiles answered it, wearing plaid pyjama pants and a dark grey shirt. He looked uncomfortable, but motioned for Derek to come in and they went up to his room. Stiles sat down on his bed when they entered it, Derek shutting the door and leaning back against it, crossing his arms.

“Is everything okay?”

Stiles looked nervous and out of sorts, like he didn’t know how to proceed. Derek would’ve tried to help, except he didn’t know what was going on.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he finally said, quietly. “I didn’t want to just keep showing up at your place all the time.”

“I don’t mind having you at my place,” Derek told him, because he didn’t.

Stiles shrugged one shoulder, rubbing his hands together slowly. “I just... I can’t sleep,” he said quietly, looking down at his moving hands. “I haven’t been able to sleep for a long time, not all through the night. Dad’s used to it now, and we have a system when he’s home. If he’s not, I just—I wake up and calm myself down and try and get back to sleep. But with you...” Stiles glanced at him briefly before looking away. “I can sleep the whole night through with you. When you’re–when you hold me, I fall asleep feeling safe, and it’s like the security of it keeps the nightmares back. Like you’re a shield. So I keep going over because you let me sleep. But I felt bad, so I tried to sleep on my own tonight, and I just... can’t.”

Derek moved forward slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Stiles and searching as much of his downturned face as he could see. “Stiles, you can come over whenever you want. To hang out, to research, to sleep. I don’t mind having you at my place. I don’t mind being the shield you need at night. You matter to me. A lot. I want you to be happy and comfortable and _safe_.” He reached out slowly, taking one of Stiles’ hands in his, and squeezed it gently. “You don’t know how much you mean to me. I would do anything for you, and sharing a bed with you is not a hardship. I actually feel like I’ve been sleeping better lately, because I’m not alone.”

Stiles glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not just saying that so I don’t feel guilty, are you?”

“I’m not,” Derek confirmed. Without really thinking on it too much, he brought Stiles’ hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

Stiles didn’t say anything about it, but his heart made a weird sound in his chest and Derek tried really hard not to smile.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Derek released his hand and stood, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of Stiles’ chair. He wished he’d come over in his sweats, but he figured he could sleep in his shorts and shirt. He doubted Stiles would mind.

“Your dad’s not gonna shoot me in the morning, is he?”

“Nah,” Stiles said with a half smile, standing to turn off his light and crawling under the covers while Derek folded his jeans in the dark and set them on the chair.

He moved to the bed and slid in beside Stiles, reaching out to pull him closer. Stiles shifted over a bit, still facing Derek, and buried his face in his chest, one hand gripping the front of his shirt loosely.

Derek smiled, lips pressed to the crown of Stiles’ head, hair tickling his nose. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and tightened his hold on him.

“Good night, Stiles.”

“Night Derek.” A brief pause. “Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Stiles slept all through the night, like he always did when Derek was wrapped around him.

When they woke up in the morning, they finally talked about it, and Derek knew that the two of them would be sleeping in the same bed together for a long, long time going forward.

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).  
> (If it still exists by the time you read this lol)


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